Marco, Are You Queer?
by Kitty Kat
Summary: One shot, set sometime in season two. It follows the path that I think would've happened if Ellie was one of the last to know, instead of the first. MarcoEllie, MarcoDylan. It's interesting.


Marco, Are you Queer?  
  
A/N: Definite sorry's abounding. First of all, I heard this song on VH1 or MTV or something that had a show about gays, and my friend Johnny is, urm, gay, so I immediately HAD to download it. I watched Careless Whisper, and I got bored with a rush of creativity, so you're left with this.  
  
Disclaimer: "Johnny, Are You Queer" belongs to Josie Cotton. I think.  
  
...Ellie' POV. It's supposed to be funny, in a sick sort of way. And it's also totally serious so don't think the whole damn thing's a joke. That would suck ass. Just go along with it.  
  
My bladder is about to burst. Cursed two bottles of water. I knew I shouldn't have had so much, but I was so thirsty. And Marco says he likes girls who make sure to drink a lot of water. 8 glasses a day, baby.  
  
I practically fall into the girl's bathroom. "...heard he doesn't want to kiss her. He'd rather kiss boys!" Hazel says to Terri. I must've interrupted something. Hazel's back is to me, so she didn't see me come into the bathroom, but Terri's look gives me away. Hazel spins quickly on her heel and glares at me. "Hello Vampira."  
  
"Clever one there, Beyonce," I say raising my eyebrows. She takes it as a compliment, shaking her "J.Lo booty" a bit for Terri's entertainment. Terri giggles a bit, probably green with envy over Hazel's ghetto moves.  
  
I push my way into the nearest stall. Hazel and Terri giggle and laugh a bit more until Paige enters. "Oh my God!" she squeals. I feel close to vomit, since everyone knows Paige Michalchuk is the queen of everything I despise yet secretly long to be, so I storm out of the bathroom before she can continue her little gossip.  
  
I find Marco on his way out. "Hey," I say a bit shyly. I'm still shy around Marco, even though we've been dating for weeks. He still makes me blush like a schoolgirl.  
  
"Hey Ellie doll," he says, slinging an arm around me. "I have some studying to do. Want to come?" he asks with a mischevious grin.  
  
"Nothing could make me happier," I say slinging my bag over my shoulder. We walk the short distance to his house with his arm around my waist, pulling me into him, closer. We reach his steps. He starts to walk up them, but I grab his wrist and pull him into me in a kiss.  
  
I let my hands roam to his ass(oh, it's that great, trust me), and I can see him getting flustered. Damnit. I knew I shouldn't have reached for his ass... again. "Shall we study?" he asks, slightly winded. I smile as a response.  
  
I lay on his bed, and he opts to sit at his desk chair. In his room, I feel totally uninhibited. I want him to crawl on top of me, and in general do things that would make my drunken mother blush. I smile wimsically at the thought. "El, what's so funny? Never mind, can you just help me with this French?"  
  
I had originally come from Ottowa, so my French skills were superb, even more superb than say, Paige Michalchuk's. Score one for the oddballs. I sat cross legged on the end of his bed for a solid half hour, helping him pronounce every damn syllable that he needed to know. Finally, I thought he knew maybe a little of what the teacher would be looking for. "Whisper something to me," I got up the urge to say.  
  
His interest became peeked. "Like what?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
He crawls on top of me, pushing me back onto the bed. "Je t'aime," he whispers into my ear. I love you. I love you. I love you.  
  
"Je t'aime aussi," I say back. I love you, too. I love you, too. I love you, too.  
  
His eyes suddenly grow very, very wide. "Ellie, I didn't mean... Ellie, I'm sorry, that's all I knew how to say." He's not on top of me anymore. My body longs for him. The space where his torso met my chest tries is suddenly definitely indefinite. There was something there, something magical, and it was ripped away.  
  
"Oh, I was just going along," I say smiling a bit. But even in my smile there's a hurt. And he can see it. "I'm going to go," I say climbing off his bed. He's back to his books now.  
  
"You don't have to leave."  
  
"Of course I don't," I say, still trying to cover up the 'I love you' disaster. "I just need to get home."  
  
He stands up and hugs me. He hugs me, and that's it. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Johnny, what's the deal boy?  
Is your love for real boy?  
When the lights are low,  
you never hold me close."  
  
I slam my locker shut. I'm so fucking screwy this morning. I don't know where my head is. I mean, of course I do. It's with Marco. It just, can't be. Not anymore.  
  
Ashley, bless her little heart, tries so damn hard with me. It's so cute, obviously, that she only tries certain personas for a little while before moving on. She'll be with Paige before the end of the year. I mean, not with Paige as in "with" Paige, but, you know, yea. Yet, for right now, she's still punked out Ashley, and therefore has to deal with me and my Marco drama.  
  
I'm looking for her when I round the corner to English. I don't actually want to go to English. It's a screwy class. There are a few random good things about it; mostly I like to stare at the scattered objects of class presentations past that still litter her floor shamelessly. But I'm not in English class, although now I wish I were, and that's weird since I haven't had any kind of English class fantasy until today.  
  
And I hear them talking. I act like I zone them out, but it may be painfully clear that I never succeed. "I'm so excited for them. Of course, Dyl says they aren't dating. They're 'talking.' But isn't that just wonderful? I just knew he would get with my brother!"  
  
"Paige, that is so cute. I mean, if this is a newborn kitten," Hazel stuck her arms about a foot apart from each other and then changed it to her whole arm span, "than this is Dylan and Marco."  
  
Marco. Marco fucking Del Rossi. He's so fucking dead.  
  
As if on cue, he turns the same corner I just did. He's laughing and playfully hitting a jersey clad Dylan. Hazel and Paige look up and notice them at the same moment that they notice Paige and Hazel. I'm stuck in the middle. It suddenly becomes really, very awkward.  
  
"I saw you today boy,  
walking with them gay boys.  
You've hurt me so,  
now I've gotta know..."  
  
"That's what they said, El? Are you serious? That Barbie fucking dreamhouse bitch."  
  
"Marco, that didn't make any sense. That was like, the worst insult ever. That's worse than the one time when Paige called Heather Sinclair a Nazi."  
  
He rolls his eyes. "God. Me, gay? Like, honestly. That couldn't be farther from the truth." As to make his point, he leans over and rests his lips on mine. "Such a great kisser."  
  
I take my compliments where I can get them. I'm a great kisser. Marco's gay. Marco's not gay! Alright, so maybe he's bi. I guess, that's kinda cool. He's open. He's sensitive. He understands, and he's still attracted to me.  
  
At least, it's all good on paper. In reality, he's not attracted to me. Very few guys are, but I won't let this turn into another pity party for Ellie. He's attracted to guys, and he's not even got the balls to tell me. What a fun time.  
  
"Don't kill Dylan," I say reading his eyes.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't kill him. You're mad that he told Paige, and Paige had a big mouth about it. Don't be. I'm not mad. I'm relieved."  
  
The fact that I stopped talking altogether scared him a bit, since he hadn't interrupted me. We sat silently for a few minutes. "Well, gay as in homosexual, I might be..."  
  
"Johnny are you queer?  
Cause when i see you dancing with your friends,  
I can't help wondering where I stand."  
  
This time, I did the interrupting. We're in the middle of English, and Kwan is going over Romeo and Juliet, but not to me. To me, we were Romeo and Juliet. I felt my lips press against his. I force my tongue down his throat as his hands grasp my shoulders tightly, trying to get me to release him. Not so fast. MARCO NEEDS TO BE STRAIGHT.  
  
I let go, and everything falls apart. Marco looks like I just gave him the plague. Ms. Kwan is screaming punishments at us. Paige and Hazel are already gossipping wildly, about me I'm sure. The girl who was too blind to deal with her gay boyfriend. And Ashley's trying so hard to be sympathetic, but you know how well that works. 'Oh, we need to talk about you, all about you, wait, ok that reminds me of a time when Craig...' Something I'd rather not deal with. And Jimmy and Spinner are so confused, because they're so happy for Marco getting some, but they're so not happy that he's not happy.  
  
In fact, he's totally pissed off.  
  
"I'm so afraid i'll lose you if I can't seduce you.  
Is there something wrong? Johnny, come on strong.  
Oh, why are you so weird boy?  
Johnny are you queer boy?  
When i wake up late, you're pushing me away."  
  
I sit alone on his porch. He's not home, or he's home and ignoring me. I just sit, because I'm too tired to walk all the way home. I haven't in awhile. I always come here. I'm used to it. I can't just change my routine now.  
  
I sit on his porch for 23 minutes before I see him. He's walking, and he's alone. He sees me, and I can see, even from yards away, his chest rise and fall in defeat. He walks up to me and grips my hands.  
  
"I'm gay. I'm sorry."  
  
Four words. And boy, were they some four words. If he wanted, I would let him be my first. I would do anything to keep him. I would do anything to keep him straight, and anything for him to stay with me. I stand still as a statue, before he turns and walks into his house. He leaves the door open, but I don't go in. I stand on the porch, peering inside.  
  
If I wait long enough, he'll come tell me it was all a joke. A sick, practical joke. Paige and Dylan and Kwan were all in on it. It's a real doozy, alright. You got me, Marco. Ha ha. The laugh's on me. As long as you're with me tonight, I'm alright.  
  
"Oh, Johnny you're forsaken,  
the love you could be taking,  
I wanna give it to you but you never come through."  
  
I collapse onto my bed. It feels so wonderful after that treck from Marco's. It envelopes my body seductively and holds me. There are no words, only uninhibited emotion. I only roll off of it long enough to check my e-mail.  
  
I open Marco's new message first. "We need to T, as in talk."  
  
It reminds me of our first date. He asked me on a date. What gay guy does that? He's so beyond fucked. He shouldn't be doing this to me. How can he do this to me? He's such a queen. Monstrously faggish.  
  
I hit reply. "Think again, Marcie. You need to SI, as in suck it."  
  
I laugh at my own cheesy pun. I hit send before I can wimp out. Oh, aren't our jokes just the grandest?  
  
"oh, why are you so weird boy?  
Johnny are you queer boy?  
When you asked for a date, I thought that you was straight,  
but Johnny are you queer?" 


End file.
